San Francisco’s Mission district specializes in a nostalgia for the archaic and the analog. So it should come as no surprise that the neighborhood hosts Michael Shindler’s Photobooth, a tintype portrait studio where passersby can pop in to get their photo taken. When they’re done, they walk away with their visage printed on a piece of metal like some Civil War relic.

“If it would work anywhere, I think it would be here,” says Shindler, who has some experience doing tintypes for public events at Golden Gate Park and the San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art. “People are into it. I’m amazed at how many people know about this process and what it is, even non-photographers.”

The author's tintype portrait.

The process involves painting a collodion emulsion on an aluminum plate and then exposing the image directly on it for a few seconds. Customers then get the plate itself. No negative or printing necessary.

Since they opened in August 2011, Photobooth has made approximately 2,300 tintypes of over 2,000 subjects. Shindler uses a Sinar 4×5 camera, a 150mm Schneider Kreuznach lens, and Profoto strobe lights to make the portraits.

The idea for a tintype portrait studio came from a night out drinking with his business partner Vince Donovan.

“I was at a bar with Vince — Hotel Utah — just about a year ago. We were just drinking, and he was like, ‘You know, I’ve always wanted to start some Polaroid portrait studio.’ And I was like, ‘I kind of want to do that too, but with tintypes.'”

The most surprising thing about the endeavor, aside from its popularity, is Shindler’s ability to make it into a profitable business. It’s Shindler’s craft and process that are at the heart of Photobooth’s success. His ability to read a person in a short time, and then translate his or her character into a photo, makes the whole operation work.

“Everyone I know who’s doing it, they’re just independent — like, everyone has a day job. I think I’m the only person I know who actually does this for a living.”

And because the plate was there with the subject and physically altered by the light coming from him or her, the entire event becomes physical evidence of that moment. The chemical reaction imbues the print with an essence that is unique to the format.

“It’s a little document” says Shindler. “It’s like your thumbprint or something. It was struck by you, you know, in a physical way.”

In most cases he doesn’t get to choose who he photographs, and that can lead to surprising results.

“And what fun. People just come through the door and I don’t even get to pick who I photograph. Sometimes someone will come in and I’ll be, like, ooh, let me take your picture, or I’ll invite someone to come down. But mostly I just shoot whoever comes through the door.”